To Have A New Name
by GwenFitz
Summary: A girl mysteriously appears at Hogwarts, she is a witch though not trained. What will happen?
1. In which a mysterious girl appears

Well... this is my first fic in a long time...

so... we'll see about how good I am in updating. Considering how long I'm expecting this to be... I'll probably won't finish it (but it is worth a shot anyways!)

hmm....

Disclaimers: I don't own anything... nada... zip... zero. I'm just a student who's trying to save up money for university. Everything belongs to Madame Rowling. Any sort of original characters that I create... probably belong to someone else as well (as that is how the world works). If you want to use any my characters... go ahead, just tell me, cause I would like to see what you do with them. I always want to write a fic where I incorporate some else's characters (well beside those that already belong in the book)

Oh damn... just realized that I forgot what I named this story... the letters are THANM.... maybe it was This Has Another Name... Me?

To have another name... more?

Thou have attached nothing more? (oh come on Sarah you really aren't that pretentious)

To have a new name? (I don't think I would call this story that).... well maybe... if I don't think of anything better.

The House at never more... (ok maybe I should go with my last suggestion... I'm really terrible at names... grrrr...)

Hope you enjoy.

***

The world turned from black to gray. As a little slit of light grew into a thin rectangle. The most important factor was the pain. It contaminated the mind to the point where it was the only subject worth thought.

She wanted to scream, to somehow channel her pain outside of her body. All she could manage was a whimper that sounded like a kitten's mew.

Time passed slowly. She could not tell how long she lay there. But it did take her awhile to realize that she was laying on grass. Green grass and her body appeared to be at the edge of a forest. Sometimes, when she grew tired of thinking of the pain, she tried to remember if she had ever been here before. She was absolutely certain (in one of those rare moments of rational thinking) that she would have remembered a forest that looked so dark and evil. Try and she might, she could not come up with any clue to where she was.

It had taken her about three seconds after she had first regained consciousness that she would probably die here. The pessimistic side was unsure of how long that death would be in coming. The optimistic side was always hoping that it would happen in the next minute or so.

In one of those fitful dozes of sleep, she was woken abruptly. Not by sound, not by pain, and not by nightmares that hounded her dreams. But by a shadow falling over her, blocking out her sun. She knew that it was still day, as she could feel warmth towards the tip of her toes.

Opening her swollen eyes as much as they would allow, she tried to make out the looming figure above her. She then proceeded to give in to the pain, and whimpered out a little cry vaguely forming one word.

"Help."

***

He stared at the woman in front of him. She was having a fit. Not that this was any unusual behavior for her, but this time it was for no reason. Normally she would have gotten upset over the quidditch team crowding her hospital wing trying to bother that damned Potter boy. He on the other hand had only brought the pitiful creature here, and the mediwitch had bitten off his head. Well, not literally or he would not be able to think, but she looked like she would be tempted to if he provoked her any further.

"Really Severus!" exclaimed Madame Pomfrey, "You should have known better! You did not know what was wrong with the child, yet you move her. You could have killed her for Merlin's sake!"

"Now really, Poppy, even I could tell that her back wasn't broken," Snape said with a hint of a snarl in his voice. He was not going to stand here and let that melodramatic witch make him feel like an ignorant teenager.

"Just because she doesn't have a broken spinal chord doesn't mean you couldn't have killed her," Madame Pomfrey snarled. "Look at her!" Snape glanced towards the isolation ward. The girl was being kept inside it, he could see her through the glass window. Her skin now had a faint pinkish tinge. Nothing like what it had looked like when he first had stumbled across her. Before it had been black and brown, with a lot of pus oozing out. She was leviating over the bed, her injuries had not been confined to one side of her body. While her most of the wounds had been healed, to lay her down would still have caused her considerable pain.

"She's covered with second and third degree burns!" Madame Pomfrey informed him of the obvious. "Just by touching her she could have contracted thousands of viruses that could have killed her. Do you even want me to tell you how many broken bones she had? You could have injured her severely by moving her. I thought you would have learned something after spending so much time with children." The witch who was much shorter than the younger wizard had a look in her eyes that was making him feel very intimidated. On the other hand, she was also making him extremely exasperated.

"If you are so worried about her, shouldn't you be keeping track of how she is doing?" asked Snape, desperately trying to get the mediwitch's attention on something else.

"Do you really think that I would make the same mistake as you?" the elder woman snapped. "I've been keeping track of her vitals ever since you came in here with her. I have treated her burns, have healed her broken bones, and have used a spell that sterilized the isolation ward that keeps out most of the harmful germs. Her vitals stabilized ten minutes ago. She was quite shaken from her trip that you gave her. I was terribly surprised that she wasn't dead by the time I got to her." Madam's voice had turned to a deadly whisper. Her eyes burned like black coals. Snape knew that he was not going to live this one down, not for a long time.

He gave her a stiff nod. Turned on his heel, fed up with hearing the witch's accusations, and swept out of the hospital wing. Stalking off towards his rooms.

He almost wished he had never tried to help that little brat.

***

He could hear the stairs moving outside of his office door. The sound of stone hitting stone reached his ears. Impatient foot steps echoed in the stone stairway.

He raised his head from his hands. These days everything seemed to get ever longer and ever harder to struggle through. 

Boom. Boom. The knocking resonated throughout the all too silent study. Normally the Faux, the phoenix would have squawked at something so indecent. But the bird had been reduced to ash only yesterday.

He cleared his throat.

"Come in, Severus," his voice sounded tired and thin, even to his own ears.

The potions master flung the door open in his usual dramatic way. His oily hair shone in the light, creating a halo around his head.

"Dumbledore," Snape said. His voice would not betray any emotion unless you knew him well. Dumbledore knew him well.

"Have a seat, Severus." The Headmaster said. Snape gracefully dropped into an overstuffed armchair across from the elder man. Dumbledore held out a white paper bag. "Have a lemon drop," Snape shook his head, his brooding eyes bored holes into the desk, "You, sure? Well, alright then, but I always find that a sweet helps when thinking about matters that upset me." Dumbledore popped a sweet into his own mouth. A look of ecstasy flooded his features.

"You know very well what is troubling me." Snape muttered. "Its that bloody girl!" Dumbledore winced.

"Severus," he said in a patronizing tone, "please don't swear." His comment received a glare from the frustrated professor across from him.

"Where does she come from?" asked Snape, as he rested his forehead on one hand. Massaging his scalp. "Who is she? How old is she? Does she have any relatives? Is she a threat to us? Was she a warning?" He let out a low groan, as if in mortal agony because he did not know everything.

"I don't think that she poses a threat towards us," commented Dumbledore. "But, I'm sure that we will have all our answers very soon. Poppy says that the girl is healing quickly." Snape did not seem overly pleased to hear the news.

"Why don't you do something time consuming in the meantime," suggested Dumbledore after there had been a significant pause. "Oh, I don't know, maybe you could prepare some more Wolfsbane potion. Work on a paper or two. You could even do your own research, as it seems you might actually have time for it."

"No," Snape said in a tight voice, "I'll make some more Wolfsbane." A look of total disgust flashed in his eyes, before they went back to the same old brooding look.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Dumbledore, "One can never have too much of that." Snape sighed, as he lifted himself out of the chair.

"Severus," the Headmaster called, when the potions master reached the door, "the moment it is safe to question the girl, we will. I know you need to know the information before you make your next move at Voldemort's court." Snape acknowledged the Headmaster with a brief nod, before leaving the room with a swish of his robes. Dumbledore had seen the look of sheer agony that had flickered in Snape's eyes for a second. Someone else may have dismissed it for malice, but Dumbledore had known Snape for a long time.

The weary headmaster went back to putting his head in his hands, deep in thought. Snape was playing a difficult game. He was the sheep disguised as a wolf in the middle of the pack. It would be only a matter of time before the wolves caught his scent.

Dumbledore sighed. At times like these, the world seemed so grim.

A muffled thump could be heard as the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's quarters jumped back to its station, shielding the old man in his office from the rest of the world.

***

A/N

so...

interesting... XD

I hope you like the beginning, I wrote it over a week ago (was just too lazy to fix it up)

Review if you want too...

Flattery is always accepted.

Constructive criticism is often ignored.

Flames are... well... they are used to bake my mushrooms!


	2. In which Snape is grumpy

Wow... so if you've read the last chapter you will have noticed that I named the story To Have a New Name... well that doesn't make THNM but... I don't really care! XP yeah... so.... 

This is a new chapter....

I was going to say something... but I forgot...

oh... here's one thing... the rating might go up later... why? well you just have to wait and see!

Chapter 2:

In which Snape is grumpy.

***

She did not want to move. Her body felt groggy, as if she had been in an unnatural sleep. She was cold. And after a few minutes of having the chills, she decided to do something about it. She tried to move her arm as if to tuck the sheets under her chin, but her arm felt as if it weighed a thousand tonnes too much. Her bed felt comfortable, as she tried to bury deeper under the covers to escape from the chill of the room. She squinted, trying to see the room she was in. Her first guess was that this was a hospital, as that was where any respectable person would have taken her. But, where were the bright lights, the whiteness, and the horrible smell? Where were the noises of carts being pushed down the halls, of nurses chatting, and of terrified patients whispering as not to disturb the doctors.

There was complete silence. Except for the tiny rustle of the curtains, enclosing her bed, shivering in the drafty breeze.

Fear was bringing the missing strength back to her. She raised herself onto her elbows, and edged backwards until her head touched the wall. Something was not right. She rubbed her head against the wall to confirm her suspicion. The wall was made of stone. Big rough stone blocks. Like the ones that made up castles. Who would have been crazy enough to bring her to a castle instead of a hospital?

She could hear a heavy stone door opening. Footsteps echoed through out the room she was in, as someone was coming closer to her. She was frozen in fear. She was about to find out who it was that had brought her here, she wanted to be invisible, to merge with the blankets. So no one would notice her.

The curtains were thrown back in one swift motion.

It was taking awhile for her eyes to adjust to the light. It seemed that the curtains had been muffling the light. Whoever had thrown the curtains, was now busy, checking her pulse.

She blinked.

Her eyes were beginning to come into focus now. The woman before her, tsking under her breath, was the spitting image of a nurse from the nineteen hundreds.

She blinked again.

The nurse started muttering something and waved a twig around. A bottle started to fly towards the nurse's outstretched hand. The nurse caught it, and started to pour a green liquid into a goblet.

She blinked.

Flying bottles? Goblets? Her eyes went wide. As she realized other things that were out of place. Paintings that moved was just one of them. 

She screamed.

The nurse dropped the bottle, and it broke into little pieces on the ground. The nurse glared at her. Took out that stick and muttered again. The next moment, the bottle was back in one piece, and there was no spill.

She screamed again, louder this time. Threw of the covers, and jumped out of the bed. She did not even think about what she was wearing, only wearing a thin robe. Normally she would have paused to consider why she was wearing such odd clothes or be grateful that she was not wearing a hospital gown. But trivial thoughts like that were far from being in top priority at the moment. She started to run towards a double door. Her energy was purely fueled by adrenaline. She was sprinting. Almost there.

The door opened, and a man dressed all in black strode in. Just in time for her to collide with him. She bounced off, and landed on the ground with a thud. Knocking herself unconscious.

***

Severus Snape was definitely annoyed. Scratch that, was irritated to the point of frustration. Okay, maybe he was just a tad furious. But that did not really matter.

What mattered was that he had gone into the hospital wing to check on the girl, just to see if she was still alive. He opened the door, and someone ran head first into him. It was that annoying girl. Merlin damn her. If she had enough energy to run like that, she should have enough energy to think clearly. As in DO NOT RUN INTO PEOPLE.

His chest still hurt.

It was not his fault that the girl had fallen after running into him. It was not his fault that she cracked her head on the stone floor. It was not his fault that she had fallen unconscious.

But, that damn mediwitch Pomfrey was making everything seem to be his fault. She was practically screaming at him right now. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it definitely felt like he was being screamed at. His pride still hurt.

"You could have had the decency of trying to catch her when she fell!" Pomfrey hissed at him. Her patient lying on a cot, head stitched, and now in a deep sleep. Snape's temper finally broke

"I, unlike some people, am not used to being run into by little girls," his words came out as a small hiss. "I, unlike some people, am not used to having to catch swooning girls." His eyes frosted over with an angry haze. He was not happy. He was not nice. He was pissed off.

He glared at Pomfrey for a full three seconds. Before spinning on his heal. His black cloak sweeping out behind him. He strode through the entrance way.

His walk was graceful because he was angry. It spoke of power. Each stride he took was laced with annoyance. It was a good thing that there were not any students in the school anymore. Otherwise they would have been victims to terrible wrath.

It was someway down one of the staircases on the way down to the dungeons, that his walked started to change. It was a gradual change, one that would not have been noticed, unless you compared it to what his walk had originally been like.

It was definitely a good thing that there were no students left in the school. Otherwise they might have had a heart attack. For they would have unmistakably seen their dreaded Potions Master stomping through the corridors, like an insolent child who had been told off for going to near a treat.

***

Dumbledore looked up. His fire was sputtering to life. He really like fire. It was one of his passions that he had kept from most people from knowing. In the muggle world, he would have been considered as being a bit of a pyromaniac. 

A deliberate cough came from the flames. Madame Pomfrey's head was forming in between them. 

"Headmaster?" She asked making sure that she had his attention. Dumbledore was known for looking off into space for long periods of time, while still being able to keep up the impression that he was actually paying attention.

"Poppy!" Dumbledore replied. "So, how is the little patient?" A look of annoyance passed over the mediwitch's face.

"She was doing quite well in fact. But she was knocked unconscious again." Dumbledore raised one of his eyebrows. "She ran into Severus, and fell, rendering herself unconscious." Dumbledore's other eyebrow joined the first raised one. "She is fine now, but I was worried for a bit." A hesitant look came across the witch's face.

"Is there anything else, Poppy?" asked the Headmaster after a short pause.

"Well," uncertainty laced her voice. "The reason she ran into Severus, is that she was running from me. I'm pretty certain I didn't do anything wrong. But, she was screaming every time I used magic."

"Well," Dumbledore said a bit surprised. "It seems that she might be a muggle." Pomfrey rolled her eyes with impatience. Dumbledore had a love of saying the obvious. She assumed it was for dramatic effect. His eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. "Though, she cannot be a muggle, otherwise she would not have been able to come anywhere near the school. I am assuming that she is a witch without any magical training." 

"Really?" Pomfrey questioned. " I would have thought that one of the schools would have picked her up. There haven't been any rogue witches or wizards since the Agreement of Study in 1758."

"I wouldn't be so sure if I was you." Replied Dumbledore absent mindedly. "There are probably quite a few of them, we just do not ever hear of them. The Agreement of Study stated that all schools must accept students that have magical powers, and that no child should be overlooked. Since then, there have been a number of schools built or destroyed. The new schools have never singed any contracts since 1901. Among the schools that fell apart were ones that had signed the contract. There could be any number of children who never go to school and have no idea what their powers are." There was a awkward pause as Pomfrey tried and decide what to say next after digesting the information.

"Ah," was the only sound that the witch could manage. Her mind still reeling from the dangerous possibility of untrained magical children or even adults in the muggle world. The fear of prosecution of the underdogs had been a nightmare of the magical world ever since the first witch hunts. Dumbledore gave her a dim smile, his mind obviously on other matters.

"Maybe I should be there when the girl wakes up." the Headmaster suggested. "Or maybe even Severus." This comment earned him a stern glare from Pomfrey. "As he was the one who rescued the girl. He may be something familiar to her, help her make the transition into our world." Pomfrey was grumbling something underneath her breath. Dumbledore heard what she was saying of course, but he chose to ignore it. Besides, he didn't think that Severus would have appreciated Dumbledore sticking up for him. In fact the Headmaster knew for certain that Severus would have been quite embarrassed. "I'll be down in a few minutes." The Headmaster informed the witch's head. She nodded before magically disappearing, recognizing the dismissal.

The Headmaster sprinkled some powder onto his head.

"Severus's Chambers." He spoke. The next minute, he was seeing the inside of Snape's chambers. His lip curled in disgust. There was one word to describe these rooms. Black. He wished Severus would listen to him sometimes and add a bit of gold. Maybe even a bit of red. But, of course, Severus would always be a stubborn man, and he would not listen to Dumbledore's suggestions.

"Severus?" asked Dumbledore. He knew that the most likely place for the Snape to be would either be here, or in the Potions' lab.

"Headmaster," a curt greeting came from one of the armchairs that looked hard enough to break your bones if you tries to flop onto one of them. Snape was sitting there with one leg over the arm rest. It looked like the most uncomfortable position in such a horrible chair. But, then again Snape had always been different. He held a book in his hands. The cover was a tattered black, gray in some places, especially around the binding, showing that it had obviously had lots of use over the years. The book came from Snape's own collection. He hardly every used any in the library. For any book on potions in the library, Snape already owned. His study's walls were lined with book shelves. If there had ever been a profession for a librarian in a library completely dedicated to potions, Snape would have been right at home with it. Well, only if he still had time to experiment.

"I would like you to come down to the hospital wing, Severus." Dumbledore informed the wretched man. Snape started. He straightened up in his chair.

"What if I say no?" He said, rebellion clearly evident in his posture. Well only evident to the man who had known Snape for most of his life.

"If you say no," Dumbledore started, mischief shining in his eyes. "Well lets just say that Hagrid will receive an anonymous tip that you have developed a sudden passion for his rock cakes." Snape's eyes widden in horror. He had an encounter with Hagrid's cooking when he had been a student here. He still had nightmares about it sometimes. "Well then, in that case, I shall be expecting your presence in the hospital wing as soon as you can make it. You will stay there until I let you leave." Snape just nodded, his eyes still wide with terror.

Dumbledore's presence left Snape's study. Dumbledore let out a hearty chuckle as he remembered Snape's expression. Snape, on the other hand, was cursing himself for being gullible and Dumbledore for being such a manipulative old man.

***

Woot!! I've finished another chapter!!! And its longer than the first!! XD 

um okay...

so first of all

When I was talking about the Agreement of Study in 1758... I meant that there was an agreement between the schools to teach any child who had magical powers (or even squibs). This way there would be no children being punished for setting pythons on their cousins. If every child that was a witch or wizard was taught... the magical world would be much safer. Otherwise the witch hunts would start up again.

yeah...

I know my history *rolls eyes at self*

Oh and I have no clue as to how the heads magically appear in the fire.

They obviously don't use floo powder. Because that way their head would be transported to the other place....

besides... its not like they are going to stick their head into a fire place just to talk to someone. I don't think that would be very respectable. Just imagine. Walking around a house. And finding someone lying in front of a fire. With their head in the flames talking to themselves.


End file.
